


The Dance

by Pleasebrushyourteeth



Category: Ratchet & Clank
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 22:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9569645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pleasebrushyourteeth/pseuds/Pleasebrushyourteeth
Summary: Young Nefarious wants to impress someone. He doesn’t know how to dance. As usual, it’s up to Lawrence to remedy this. Reboot-verse.





	

“Young Master, get down from there at once!”

The boy stuck his tongue out at Lawrence, still perched high atop the refrigerator.

“No! I’m not going and that’s final!”

“Young Master-“

“CALL ME BY MY REAL NAME, LAWRENCE.”

Lawrence sighed. “Oh, ‘Destroyer of Worlds’, please come down. Your parents are expecting you to be present and punctual.”

“I don’t care!” the boy pouted. “Balls are stupid and I don’t do stupid things!”

“Pardon me, but hiding on top of kitchen appliances to escape something as benign as a ball seems rather dim-witted to me.”

“Shut up!” the boy screamed, chucking a cereal box at the battered butler. Lawrence caught it before it could spill over the ground.

“Now, young master,” Lawrence snapped. “You are going to come down or so help me-“

“Never!”

Lawrence scrambled to think of a way to get the boy down without having to result to brute force. He couldn’t use money or treats, as the boy already had too much of both those things. He also couldn’t rely on the boy's parents as leverage, as they never had been figures of authority to him. Then, suddenly, it dawned on him. 

"Young master, your grandmother will be very upset if you don't attend this ball."

Suddenly, the large grin on the boy’s face sunk into a frown.

“No, she wouldn’t. She hates balls.”

Holding in his snicker at the accidental but accurate innuendo, Lawrence continued. “That may be true, but as we both know, nothing makes her angrier than not being able to show off her favorite grandson to a captive audience.”

The boy’s frown scrunched into a thin line, and he pondered what to do. Finally, he reached out a hand.

“Help me, Lawrence.”

Lawrence complied, and soon the boy was off the refrigerator. Lawrence returned the cereal box to its proper place, then turned his attention to the sulking “Destroyer of Worlds.”

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“Hmph,” was the boy’s only response.

“Now, “Lawrence continued on. “Let’s get you dressed. We certainly can’t go to the ball in your pajamas, now can we?”

And thus, Lawrence begin scooting the Destroyer of Worlds into his room to get dressed for the Snorkelsons’ ball.

-

Lawrence enjoyed an unusually quiet ride to the ball. The boy ignored all prompting from Lawrence, and as a simple butler bot, Lawrence respected the boy’s desire for silence. Finally, they arrived at the Snorkelsons’ mansion. Inside, they quickly found the boy’s parents socializing with some of their friends.

“There’s my darling boy!” exclaimed Mom with a big smile. “Come here, baby!”

She reached her arms around the boy, squeezing him tightly.

“Mom, let me go!” the boy screamed, wriggling out of his mother’s grasp, only to be immediately picked up and held by his father.

“Now, there, son!” Dad insisted. “Aren’t you happy to see your old folks?”

“No. Where’s Grams?”

Dad’s and Mom’s large grins faltered just a little at this heart-breaking, but predictable answer.

“Oh, I think she’s with her friends, near the snack table,” Dad replied.

The boy escaped his father’s hold and ran into the ballroom. Dad sighed.

“Well, Lawrence,” Dad asked. “Did he give you much trouble on the way here today?

“No, sir,” Lawrence lied, deciding not to worry the master and missus with the refrigerator story. 

“Good, good!” Mom stated. “Well, do keep an eye on him for us, will you? We’re gonna be partying like Blargian Snagglebeasts tonight, right, hon?”

“That’s the plan, dear!” Dad replied.

“Yes ma’am, of course,” Lawrence calmly stated as the two begin to passionately make out in front of him. It took all his energy to maintain his serious composure and walk into the ballroom.

The ballroom was bustling with excitement. People dined, chatted, and danced in obscene ways to heavy dubstep music. None of these pretentious rich folks had ever been to a real party, like Lawrence and his buddies had. But alas, today he was on the job, and there was no time for fun and games. He shuffled through people dancing, looking for the boy. Finally he found his grandmother. Like always, Grandma had commandeered the snack table with her gang of 90-year-old ladies of ill repute. They were currently playing cards, giving firm glares towards anyone tried to access the punch bowl, which was no doubt already spiked. Lawrence, however, was unmoved by this show of intimidation, and approached Grandma regardless.

“Ma’am?” he stated loudly in order to be heard over the music. Grandma, being nearly deaf, still didn’t hear him, and had to be directed to Lawrence’s presence by the other women at the table. 

“Lawrence!” she finally screeched. “Finally, there you are! Tell those hacks in charge of this party to turn on some real music. I wanna rock and roll!”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t appear to be that type of party,” Lawrence replied, saddened by this fact himself. Oh, what he would give to be with his band playing bass right now.

“Hmph, lame,” Grandma exclaimed, turning her attention back to her cards. Looking around the table, Lawrnence noticed that the Destroyer of Worlds was missing from the scene.

“Ma’am, where is your grandson?”

“Oh, him?” Grandma responded. “He went to the bathroom.”

Armed with knowledge of the boy’s location, Lawrence begin moving away from the table to go find the bathroom.

“I wouldn’t bother him, though,” Grandma suddenly mentioned.

“Why is that?” Lawrence questioned. He noticed the other ladies at the table beginning to look at each other and snicker. Grandma herself had a large grin on her face as she shuffled through her cards.

“Let’s just say he’s a little flustered,” Grandma replied, still smiling.

Now concerned for his job (and of course, the boy’s well-being), Lawrence left the table.

-

“Young master, if you are no longer using the restroom, please come out. There are other party patrons looking to use it.”

“Go away, Lawrence!”

The butler shook his head. Of course the boy wouldn’t leave on his own. Lawrence opened the bathroom door and looked around. The boy’s feet could be seen in the very last stall in the room. The butler walked to the stall and knocked on its door.

“Young Master, are you alright?”

“I said go away, Lawrence.”

“I’m sorry, Young Master, but your parents entrusted me with your care.”

Silence from the Destroyer of the Worlds, then the stall door opened and the boy walked out.

“Is something the matter?” Lawrence asked.

“You wouldn’t understand. You’re just a stupid robot.”

Unaffected by that mild insult, Lawrence prodded on.

“Come, now, Young Master. There must be something I can do to assist you.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry, but your parents charged me with your protection.”

When the boy looked down at the ground instead of insulting him, Lawrence knew something was wrong.

“Young Master…”

“I told you, Lawrence,” the boy cut him off. “You wouldn’t understand.”

If Lawrence had been programmed to smile, he would’ve done that. But alas, he had to settle for putting a comforting hand on one of the boy’s shoulders.

“Why don’t you try me first? I’m sure there’s something I can do to help.”

The boy looked up at him, then sighed.

“Susie Snorkelson.” He finally whispered.

“What?” The butler questioned. What did the Snorkelsons’ eldest daughter have to do with anything?

“Susie Snorkelson.”

“What about her?”

“She makes me… mad.”

“Why? Has she wronged you in some way?”

“Yeah! She dares to make that horrible, mismatched, uncoordinated dress of hers look good, and that makes me mad!”

“… I see.”

“She makes me so mad,” the boy continued, fists clenching. “She makes me wanna pick her up and throw her into the punch bowl!”

“That’s not very nice…”

“I know, that’s why I wanna do it!”

Lawrence tried to think of a solution to this dilemma. It was obvious that the boy had a problem with the Snorkelson child, but how should he resolve it without resulting to violence? Lawrence thought about how he resolved his problems, and came up with an rather mischievous idea.

“Young Master, it sounds like you need to have a conversation with this young lady. Perhaps you could ask her to dance? That would give you time to talk to her.”

The boy’s face quickly lit up.

“That’s it, Lawrence!” He exclaimed. “I’ll ask her to dance and then I can tell her how ugly her dress looks!”

“Maybe not that type of conversation, Young Master…”

“Oh, it’s perfect! Thank you, Lawrence!”

With that, the boy ran past the butler and out of the bathroom, only to walk back in before the door could close.

“But, Lawrence, I don’t know how to dance.”

“Well, that’s certainly a problem.”

“This isn’t good at all, Lawrence! How will I get talk to her now?”

“Well, Young Master,” Lawrence stated as he adjusted his tie. “You happen to be looking at the Best Ballroom Dancer Award recipient 5 years in a row.”

Slowly, a nefarious smile creeped over the boy’s face.

-

One ballroom dance lesson later in the men’s bathroom later, Lawrence walked up to the DJ in charge of what the uncultured masses called “music.”

“Excuse me, good sir,” Lawrence said as loudly as possibly, trying to communicate with the head-phoned DJ. Eventually, and with much hand waving, he noticed the butler bot, and took off his headphones.

“What’s up, man?”

“Could you possibly play a slow song next?” Lawrence asked.

“Sorry, buddy,” the DJ replied. “The Snorkelsons just requested two more hours of dupstep. Pretty killer gig, huh?”

Pretending not to hear that, Lawrence reached into his inner coat pocket.

“Maybe this will change your mind?” queried Lawrence as he jingled all his spare bolts in his hand. The DJ regarded the bolts eagerly.

“For 5 bolts? Whatever you say, man!”

With that, the DJ swiped the bolts from Lawrence’s hand.

“OK, party people!” The DJ screamed into the closest microphone. “Time to dial down and groove to some slow jams!”

As the DJ put on a slower song, Lawrence tried to spot the boy and the Snorkelson child in the crowd. Finding Susie first standing near her sisters, he turned his attention to locating the boy, only for his audio inputs to detect the boy’s voice in the same place where he found the girl.

“Excuse me, Susie,” the boy inquired quietly, hands behind his back. “But would you care to dance?”

“Of course, good sir,” Susie replied, a smile growing over her lips. “I would like that very much.”

She held out her hand to her dance partner. Confused, the boy turned to Lawrence.

“Kiss it,” Lawrence thought as hard as possible in a desperate attempt to assist with the boy. 

The boy gulped, and kissed Susie’s hand, causing her to blush and the boy to smile nervously. Then they began dancing, and… contrary to Lawrence’s previous opinion on the matter, they weren’t half bad. The Snorkelson child was obviously more experienced, leading the boy around with ease and whimsy. The boy, on the other hand, wasn’t doing too poorly either, what with his only experience being about 10 minutes in the bathroom with a robot. Lawrence was lulled into a trance-like state watching them, and for a few brief moments, all was right in the universe…

… that is, until the song finished, and the two ended up too close to the snack table, prompting Grandma and her gang to dump the punch bowl on the unsuspecting couple.

“AAAAAAAH!” Susie screamed, the juice seeping into her hair and dress. 

“Ha!” The boy laughed, drenched as well. “Now your dress actually looks decent! Good going, Grandma!”

“No prob, Sonny Boy!” Grandma smirked as she high-fived the other women at the table. “Always happy to be of service!”

Susie’s parents soon arrived at the scene to comfort their crying child, and within a minute, the boy and his family were forcibly removed from the party.

“Good riddance!” Grandma deemed.  “That party sucked as-”

“Ma!” Mom shouted, one hand clutching her side, the other a glass of wine. “No cursing allowed!”

“Well, gang,” Dad interrupted. “I guess we better head home.”

The ride home was quiet as well. Mom and Dad quickly knocked out, their snoring the only indication that they were still alive. Grandma and the boy, meanwhile, spent the trip listening to the radio as Lawrence drove the happy family home. When they arrived at the family mansion, Lawrence quickly got into his routine of tucking in every member of the family into bed. First were the boy’s parents, which was a bit of a tall order considering that they were both passed. Tucked in with a good night kiss, however, they were, as was Grandma. The boy, as always, was the last to be put to bed.

“Well, Young Master,” Lawrence began as he pulled the bed covers over the boy. “I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

“Oh, I am, Lawrence!” the boy chirped back. “Today went marvelously!”

“I’m glad you’re happy, then, “ Lawrence responded. If he could sneer he would, but alas he was stuck with the face he was originally designed with.

“Thank you for coming up with that idea, by the way,” the boy suddenly stated.

“What?”

“The dance? Come on, don’t play stupid with me, Lawrence.”

“Oh, yes, the dance… well, I’m not particularly pleased with the outcome…”

“Lawrence…”

“... But I’m glad you had fun, Young Master.”

At that, the boy smiled.

“I wish every day could be this good, Lawrence.”

Lawrence regarded the boy with a sad expression.

“I, too, Destroyer of Worlds. I, too.”


End file.
